


One Song; One Heart, Tenderly Beating

by WolfjawsWriter



Series: Disney Scribbles [1]
Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Abuse, Arranged Marriage, Attempted Murder, Centaurs, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fantasy AU, First Kiss, First Love, First Meetings, I upload whenever I have a chapter, Magic, Minor Violence, Past Abuse, Princess Lucy, Snow White AU, Violence, Witchcraft, Witches, creative murder attempts, prince lockwood, queen Marissa fittes, things will be a little changed, this is my version of the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24437158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfjawsWriter/pseuds/WolfjawsWriter
Summary: “Famed is thy beauty, your Majesty; known far and wide even to the farthest kingdom’s extents, celebrated by many and all who pursue your interest, and desired by more dames than even my incredible knowledge cannot conceive” The mirror’s slave’s voice echoed proudly through the room “but hold, your Majesty! I see someone who’s beauty and virtue is far greater than yours! A lovely maiden - alas, she is far more fair than you!”“Alas for her! Reveal her name!”“Hair brown like the deepest forest, eyes dark like a starless night, skin like the finest cream, and spirit like the noblest mare. Rags cannot hide her grace, and no amount of harsh words can temper her courage. Even the hardest chores can’t make the softness of her hands fade away. She’s a born Princess of King Christopher Carlyle, and time has only brought her closer to her destiny as his rightful heir”“She will not be queen until the day I’m gone”
Relationships: Lucy Carlyle & Anthony Lockwood, Lucy Carlyle & George Cubbins, Lucy Carlyle & Holly Munro, Lucy Carlyle & Marissa Fittes, Lucy Carlyle & The Skull, Lucy Carlyle/Anthony Lockwood, Lucy Carlyle/George Cubbins, Quill Kipps/Holly Munro
Series: Disney Scribbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764856
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18





	One Song; One Heart, Tenderly Beating

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Flames and Fairy Tales (Flames_and_Fairy_Tales)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flames_and_Fairy_Tales/gifts), [Ellajane2255](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellajane2255/gifts).



The soft chirping of the birds was a song that was played constantly around the royal gardens, always tuneful and always changing to the ears of those who listened, with variety of choristers of all the breeds that were raised in the castle’s aviary. From exotic birds of great size and colorful plumage with loud, cackling voices to smaller, duller birds of softer, fainter voices, all of them beautiful and in constant song. 

Everyday in the royal castle the royal staff would smile as they listened to their song, the windows of the castle wide open as to let the sound in, echoing through the halls beautifully. And outside of the castle the song was hearable just as well, in all the courtyards.

It was in one of this courtyards that princess Lucy was, unlike how princesses usually would be, dressed in exquisite gowns that dragged behind them, with their hair cascading prettily around their shoulders, necklaces and bracelets shining gorgeously around their slender necks and bony wrists. No, she wasn’t like most princesses. 

She had a long skirt and a simple bodice instead of a dress, of brown and grey with patches of different shades instead of exotic reds and pinks, a pair of leather sandals on her feet instead of golden slippers, a short bob of brown hair instead of a long mane of butter-yellow locks, and nothing around her neck or wrists that would adorn her and distinguish her from the rest of the castle’s staff.

With a brush in hand and bucketful of soapy water at arm’s length, Lucy cleaned the stones of the royal veranda, listening to the birds of the royal aviary. They had been at it all day now, just like they were every day, and she liked it. It helped her forget the tedious and repetitiveness of the task that she was actually doing at the moment. 

Everyday, despite the castle having a wide range of staff that specialized in all sorts of domestic work, Lucy had to wake up early and make her way downstairs for a very quick breakfast in the kitchens, before heading outside and raking the Queen’s personal gardens, those that were directly under her Tower. Then she would sweep and mop the veranda where the Queen would take her breakfast some hours later. Then she had to sweep, mop and dust the Portrait Hall with lots of care as to not turn or push off any vase or family relic from their stands. 

After finishing with those chores she would attend her lessons at the royal study, in which her tutors would give her classes of embroidery, languages, ethics, music, arts and finally dancing in the castle’s ballroom. They was all very dull and boring classes in Lucy’s opinion, plus she really wasn’t good at any of them, except for embroidery and arts. Her skills with the threat and needle, as well as with the paint and brushes was only comparable to those of a great artist, her tutors would say, on the other hand her dancing tutor would sometimes call her a ‘four-left-hoofed centaur’, which was of course, a more preposterous than necessary way of saying she was incapable of dancing graciously, and a very disrespectful way of calling a princess, but the Queen seemed to be alright with it.

“Lucy” 

The princess turned around to acquaintance the presence of the newcomer - the Queen. Her stepmother. A woman of imposing presence, yet with a lightness to her gestures that made her a calm and elegant sight. And quite a sight she was; a slender, still somehow young-looking figure that always fitted perfectly into her favored-colored silver dresses, with rich black curls that curtained around her face and shoulders, her dark and mystical eyes veiled with a regal curtain of queen-like composure, her rose red lips always in a perfect smile that charmed the lords and ministers of the kingdom. Yes, Queen Marissa Fittes was a sight for sore eyes, the fairest lady of the land, and despite their lack of blood relation, Lucy had many times hoped she would grow to look like her, but of course it wasn’t to be.

“Mother” The princess made a quick curtsey, lifting slightly the brown skirt she wore as any princess should when addressing their superior. The woman’s lips curled into a loving smile, her hand coming to cup the princess’s soft cheek in a tender, maternal gesture.

“My dearest daughter, how are you today?”

“Working hard, mother; I’m almost done with the veranda”

“Turning out quite impressively I must say” She looked around the perfectly clean stones of the yard with a satisfied grin, her lush lips perfect even then “you’re such a diligent princess, Lucy, I’m proud of you” 

The princess felt her plump cheeks redden “Thank you, mother, I make the best I can”

“As you should, my dear, a princess must always do everything she can to understand her people and help them. But for now you must go, remember today is special, you must go get ready for tonight, come on, run along”

She dismissed the princess with a quick peck on her cheek and a wave of her hand, then watched as the raggedly girl made her way away. Then her smile disappeared.

The Queen brought out a small handkerchief and wiped at the soft palm that had touched the princess’s cheek. Then she stuffed it back into its place and turned around, making her way back towards her personal quarters in the high tower of the castle. The halls of the palace were thankfully empty from servants and ministers and the court, which usually went along the Queen everywhere she went, listened to everything she said and watched everything she did. Mornings were nice, for she had a chance to get away from all that and do her…more personal biding. 

She arrived to the stairs that would lead her up to her chambers and stopped. She looked behind her to make sure that there was still no one around to watch her and brought up her lithe hand, placing it against the bricks of the opposite wall of the stairs. And watched it disappear. 

With her perfect smirk on place, she took a step into the new set of stairs that appeared before her where the wall used to be. If someone were to see the Queen vanish behind a wall one would slowly realize she was a special woman, not only for her immaculate appearance and the golden crown upon her head, but for the abilities that she possessed behind all that ideal facade. 

Marissa Fittes was, at the very core of her being, a woman of magic. Of witchcraft to be precise.

She descended the stairs in silence, her eyes able to see each of the steps before her as she did. It was a pretty known path for her; she knew it by memory and could probably walk it even if she couldn’t see it lighting at her presence. 

Only a few moments later did she arrive at a room at the end of the stairs - a sort of personal living room filled with couches and boudoirs of different shades of violet and silver, of extravagant designs and made of the most exotic fabrics and fillings. The walls were adorned with purple silks and velvet curtains over the rough stones, a beautiful silver carpet on the floor depicting a rearing unicorn - the symbol of the Queen. 

And standing on the wall, between two of the silk curtains, was a big glass mirror. It had a frame of gold carved into the form of vines and roses intertwining in and out of themselves, over and under. If one looked closely enough, they would be able to make out a mist that swirled gently seemingly inside the confines of the glass, none of it escaping into the quiet room, but disappearing into the endless abyss of darkness that swelled behind it and drank all color and reflection, not an image displayed on its surface.

With steps lighter than a bunny’s hop, the Queen approached the ink-black looking glass, her immaculate frame not reflecting upon it, not even with her crown and jewels glimmering at the golden flowers of the outline.

“ _Slave in the magic mirror, you who choose others love, Come forth from the darkness and the light from high above._ Speak! Your queen commands your presence”

The mist in the glass twirled at her words, just above gently first then whirling faster and steadily stronger, circling and circling around itself, the edges licked by tongues of fire before it all lighted up in a blast. A man, youthful and good-looking, appeared among the flames, longish mane of golden hair billowing around him in a gentle but non-existent breeze, an elegant smile shining under a well-trimmed mustache.

“ _You called upon me, my queen?_ ”

She smiled prettily.

“Magic mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?”

His eyes glinted wondrously right before they were closed, the flames growing around him to engulf the darkness that surrounded his mighty frame, whistling and hissing furiously as the green orbs opened once more to stare entrancingly into the Queen’s own.

“ _Famed is thy beauty, your Majesty; known far and wide even to the farthest kingdom’s extents, celebrated by many and all who pursue your interest, and desired by more dames than even my incredible knowledge cannot conceive_ ” The mirror’s slave’s voice echoed proudly through the room, the words that he would speak to his beloved Queen everyday repeated for the millionth time in his eternally-cursed life, enjoying the sight of her basking in his daily proclamation before he opened his mouth again, spurred by the magic that coursed through his encaged self “ _but hold, your Majesty! I see someone who’s beauty and virtue is far greater than yours! A lovely maiden - alas, she is far more fair than you!_ ”

Her eyes snapped up at the slave behind the glass, stood among its ever-dancing flames, her eyes gaining a shine that was almost as bright as his and twice as powerful. 

“Alas for her!” She exclaimed in a dangerous growl “reveal her name!”

With the fire’s new intensity, the slave’s hair billowed wilder around him, closing his eyes once more before he crowed “ _Hair brown like the deepest forest, eyes dark like a starless night, skin like the finest cream, and spirit like the noblest mare-_ ”

Her mind needn’t do too many leaps to come to the right conclusion “Lucy!” She yelled in outrage, her dress’ skirt swishing as she turned around suddenly “that wretched girl!”

“ _Rags cannot hide her grace, and no amount of harsh words can temper her courage_ ” the slave’s words continued as the Queen walked away, the sound following her “ _Even the hardest chores can’t make the softness of her hands fade away. She’s a born Princess of King Christopher Carlyle, and time has only brought her closer to her destiny as his rightful heir_ ”

“No” Queen Marissa stomped her slipper on the cold stone floor, glaring up at the mirror between the silken curtains “She will not be queen until the day I’m gone, and that day is more than far. I will not allow it. As for her fairness,” She laughed bitterly, the frazzled, scraggy image of her stepdaughter’s usual look coming back as she began the walk back up her Tower “even if she was as beautiful as you claim she is, no one will ever see it. She’s not the fairest woman of this, or any land and everyone can see that”

There was no way the mirror’s slave could be right. There simply wasn’t. Sure, when she was a small girl, Princess Lucy had been a pleasant child to look at, most kids were at some point, at least to their parents, but growing up practically working as another service maid of the castle, the Princess had simply no time to worry about her looks, Marissa had made sure of that. 

For the longest thirteen years, she had made sure to mold the orphaned princess in just the perfect way; long work hours during the morning with the rest of the maids and arduous lessons in the afternoon with all her stern tutors. Sure, the Queen also did teach her about the importance of a princess’s looks and etiquette and the rest of the jabber herself, if only to ensure that the girl learned just how superior she was to her in looks and loveliness; after all, princes only married for politics and beauty.

Her exhausting work paid off well of course, but it wasn’t done just yet. Oh no, Queen Marissa still had many more years to rule, she knew, and she would ensure that no matter what happened to her in the end, her stepdaughter would never forget her lessons.

**——**

“Oh, my dearest daughter!” the Queen exclaimed with a dramatic flutter of her fan beside her face, watching as the young Princess walked out of halls that led to her personal chambers “you look stunning!”

Lucy’s already rosy cheeks flushed a little brighter, her hands resting before her on top of her own hand-fan “you really think so, mother?”

Queen Marissa grabbed her stepdaughter’s hand and pulled her along down the hall, stopping before a full length mirror, wide as a balcony window and tall to the ceiling, looking inside it at her stepdaughter and herself. She admired herself first, clad in her best, newest silver gown and glittering slippers, the light of the room making the tiny diamonds of the skirt and chest glimmer like stars upon a dark sky, her uncovered shoulders and low cleavage making her look all the younger and exquisite, much like she had been a few more years ago than she was proud to admit. 

Then she looked at the Princess beside her, head just above her own shoulders, even with her slightly raised slippers, dolled up out of her usual ragged state with a gorgeous pastel blue dress, the bust covered in sparkly blue sequins, the different shades giving it the look of a bouquet of Forget-Me-Nots, puffed elbow-length sleeves and wide tulle skirt. Her short hair was loose and framed beautifully around her face, a silver and diamonds tiara atop; the royal crown of the princess.

“You look almost as beautiful as me when I had my Come of Age Ball” She purred dreamily, remembering the moments of her younger years as if it was but a recent memory. 

Ignoring the small painful sting in her heart and stomach at knowing that, despite her most strenuous and grueling efforts to look delicate and elegant like the princess her stepmother once was, she still couldn’t come close to resemble the beauty of the Queen, Lucy gave a quiet sigh to herself. 

“Thank you, mother” She smiled still, turning to look at the older woman, who beamed maternally and warm at the her. 

“Well, tonight’s the night, my dear” Her thin, gloved hands cupped her round cheek “Tonight is your Come of Age Ball; the night you’ll be presented at our kingdom’s neighbors, to our nobility and the people of our kingdom as their future ruler, and where we’ll find you a worthy husband”

The gloved fingers caressed slowly over the creamy skin of the Princess’ cheekbone as the words came from the Queen’s supple lips, curled in that affectionate way.

“But you just make sure to have fun tonight, I’ll take care of the husband business”

“Yes mother”

“Good. Now, go welcome our guests, some of them travelled far to get here after all - and remember Lucy; just smile” 

She breathed out quietly and nodded, then stepped around the Queen, who watched with a parentally proud expression as the guards grabbed on to the great doors’ handles, ready for when the Princess was to walk through. Lucy took a moment to stand before them and breath in peace and quiet while she still had some. Once inside the party, peace and quiet were impossible things to get. 

With a movement of her hand the doors were pulled open.

The castle's ballroom was filled with people; everyone in Marissa City, the kingdom's capital, was there to celebrate her Come of Age, mingling with the nobles and aristocrats in what was for most of them a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, after all, it wasn't everyday that the future monarch of a land went over the majority of age. The sovereigns of other countries - kings and queens, princes and princesses, emperors and empresses, dukes and duchesses - walked around the giant room as well, admiring the rich and diverse dishes that were served at the banquet, the magnificent decorations hanging off the walls, each and everyone emblazoned with the rearing unicorn of the Queen’s symbol. 

With utmost wariness and all the indifference her title allowed her, Lucy slipped inside the ballroom, mingling as best as she could with the guests. Which was not really quiet or unnoticed. Less so with the Royal Announcer yelling her arrival to everyone.

“Ladies and Gentlemen of Marissa City! Our lady of the night; Princess Lucy Joan Carlyle!”

Just as soon as the people noticed the girl had entered she found herself surrounded to suffocation point; men and women of every status and nationality pushed themselves to get a word with her, talking over one another and some even making a grasp for her hands to try and pull her away. Lucy had never been a fan of crowds.

Remembering etiquette lessons was hard when trying to push through a crowd like this, specially as it kept growing the more people recognized her or realized what was happening, but still the Princess made what she could think of a way to rid herself of the unwanted attention while also trying to advance with everyone around her.

“What happy occasion princess!”

“A marvelous party you’ve thrown!”

“Oh Princess, you simply must tell us who designed your dress!”

“Your Highness is looking like a true angel tonight!”

“Certainly the ball of the century!”

“Your Highness is the true image of royalty!”

“The evening couldn’t possibly be anymore splendid!”

“Your father would certainly be proud of you, Princess!”

Her polite, practiced smile strained as she tried to make out and answer to each and every comment that she received, still attempting to navigate the room even though she couldn’t properly make out her surroundings. 

“Thank you, thank you-“

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” Everyone looked up towards the main door again, the Royal Announcer standing tall before it one last time “Her Majesty, Queen Marissa Fittes!”

The door opened as he spoke, the regal figure of the Queen striding inside proudly, dress swishing nicely around her feet, the fan in her hand open at the side of her face and the gold and amethysts stones crown atop her head shining with the light of the ceiling’s candelabras. 

Just like that all the ministers, dukes and villagers lost interest in the Princess, turning their bootlicking attention towards the Queen, leaving Lucy standing there, alone. She sighed in relief. Interacting with crowds of her subjects had never been something she liked to do ever since she’d have had to hear the words ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ and its many variations over and over again at her father’s funeral when she was a child. Growing up she hadn’t had much experience in it either, with her stepmother becoming the ruling queen of the nation and taking over all the necessary public appearances. 

This was, however, unavoidable; she couldn’t not attend her own Come of Age Ball unless she wished to insult all of her nation. She could leave it after a while though, after all, her stepmother would be arranging her future marriage with whoever she thought was best. All she had to do was dance with at least one person, make sure most of the guests noticed, then she could slip away from the party, and the faster she got this done, the faster she’d be able to leave.

She walked away to the sidelines of the room, closer to where the musicians were. Currently they were playing some merry tune, long and melodic, waiting for the moment the dances would begin. If there was anywhere she’d find someone to dance with to give the impression she had to it would be close to the band, where all eligible bachelors and bachelorettes of all social statuses stuck for the most part of any party. 

Most of them looked up her way when she came close, the girls whispering among themselves and the guys ogling her as she walked through. Even though she was a princess, Lucy usually spent so little time actually acting as a princess she wasn’t used to being treated as one, and from the few times she was, she’d rather no one treat her like it much. People only came to someone of her rank because they wanted something, so she’d rather not be approached at all. Still, despite the craving faces she got from the guys around her and the glares from the groups of girls, she kept her head upright, back straight and expression neutral, looking for someone whom she could make her one-dance partner. 

Dukes, Princes, Barons, even commoners, they all stood so close to her, probably only a call away from her, and yet they seemed so distant. How could she ask one of them to dance? How would she choose? So many options, all so different, all equally good at first sight, and yet so incredibly volatile - what if she chose wrong? Lucy certainly didn’t wanted to spend what little time she’d stay at the party with someone who’d make her regret she stayed at all! But how could she know who would make a good partner and who wouldn’t? Was there a way to tell at all?!

“Your Highness-“

“Ah!” Her feet stopped right as she collided against someone, dress swaying upon impact, dropping her sky-blue fan. Both hands immediately grasped on to that that was in front of her to keep her balance, feeling as another pair, much bigger than her own, placed themselves on her forearms, perhaps with the same intention, and she looked up.

“Oh- I’m so sorry Your Highness, do forgive me” 

She blinked. Before her stood a man - no, he was just barely an adult man, his face retained the last of those boyish looks he likely once possessed as a child, giving an air of youthfulness to the dark eyes that looked down at her with worry. High cheekbones rested right under them, giving his face a certain sharpness that didn’t cut out the warmness with which he smiled apologetically at her, the pearls of his smile shining so bright she might have been blinded.

He had picked up the fan from the marble floor at her feet, raising again to hand it back in her hand. When he did, her eyes widened slightly - his hands were at least twice as big as hers! Long, thin and calloused, so like the hands of the men that handled the horses in the stables, and yet there was something that distinguished them from the hands of men she had known; his held a certain softness, one that couldn’t be found even in the hands of the youngest sons of the castle’s workers. The softness of a pampered life only a true royal could afford.

“I’m so terribly sorry, Your Highness, I wasn’t sure you had seen me…” he apologized, his words lost in her ears as her eyes trailed up from his hands. He was clad in one of the most fancy robes she had ever seen; riding boots that came to his knees and black trousers covered his long legs, a black silken vest under a long, navy blue coat, a sash of the same color over his waist, right under a black belt. A decorative rapier hung from it, the pommel encrusted with ocean-deep blue jewels. Another of the same precious rocks hanged from his neck as a medal, the sigil of a pair of rapiers crossed over one another carved on the magnificent stone.

“That- that’s alright, Mr…” 

“Lockwood” He took a step back, bowing deeply before her “Prince Anthony John Lockwood of the Thalassian Kingdom”

Lucy curtsied “Princess Lucy Joan Carlyle”

He took her hand in his, the calluses of his fingers tickling her gently, and pressed a kiss to the back of it “Its a true pleasure to meet you, Princess” 

A small rush of blood went into her cheeks “Its a pleasure to meet you, Prince Lockwood. I hadn’t met the Thalassian royalty before, is this your first visit to our kingdom?”

“It is!” He straightened up again, his smile shining down at her like it had light of its own “I’ve done some travelling before, but I must confess I hadn’t come this far north before”

“How do you find the place?”

“Marvelous, simply marvelous, I had never expected to find such an agreeable weather and such incredible sights, makes me regret not having come before”

She nodded in acknowledgement. So far the conversation seemed to be flowing pretty naturally; he didn’t seem at all uncomfortable or estranged, so she was not messing the moment so far. Good. 

“Its a wonderful party; definitely one of the best balls I’ve attended”

“Have you attended many balls, Prince Lockwood?” the princess asked cordially, her fan raised to her face once more, moving accordingly.

“Some, enough to know this is the fanciest one I’ve seen, I couldn’t stop admiring the decorations and service since the moment I came in”

“I’m glad you appreciate it, the Queen has put a lot of effort into making sure tonight was perfect”

“I’ll have to remember to compliment her on her excellent taste, but how do you find the party, princess Lucy?” He had taken a step closer to her, not unkindly or invasivably, but in interest. His eyes were focused on her in a way she did not remembered ever having seen anyone look at her - like the thing she was about to say was truly important. Her hand closed her fan slowly.

“...to be honest, this is my first ball so I don’t really know good it is, but I’m happy to hear its up to your standards”

Despite the feeling that her answer wasn’t what he was expecting to hear, it didn’t seem to phase him; his attention was still on her and his smile still unwavered “Really? I shall have to invite you to Thalassia soon, we sure have a lot of parties and banquets; my sister always says a festive kingdom is a happy and well-known kingdom”

“She must be well liked by your people, I sure would love to meet her”

“Jessica would be delighted to meet you too princess, unfortunately she couldn’t attend, her coronation is to be in a few more weeks and she has been incredibly busy with the preparations”

“That is unfortunate, I do hope her coronation goes perfectly though”

“You should come see it yourself, princess; royalty across the continent will be invited to attend the ceremony and festivities, the coming of a new ruler is a political matter after all” 

Lucy blinked bewildered. All political gatherings were regularly handled by the queen herself; she always said the princess was not ready to partake in the responsibilities that this gatherings and parties required. She had never questioned the reasoning behind that, Lucy sure didn’t feel ready to handle the responsibility of ruling her kingdom, but surely she could take the obligations of a fellow princess’ coronation right? She did have to prepare for when her own came, and she’d rather see what would happen before the moment arrived. 

She smiled back at him timidly “I would love to attend your sister’s coronation, prince Lockwood”

His stayed in place, just as bright as before at her answer “I shall speak with her as soon as I have returned, I’ll make sure its written and sent myself” 

Before he could say anything else there was a change of tone in the song the musicians played, sudden, interrupting the ballad they had been performing. The dance was about to begin. 

A large hand was extended in front of the princess in invitation. She stared at it astonished: she was about to ask him herself if he would be interested in dancing one song with her, just one was enough after all, but... _he_ was asking her.

“Seeing as this is your first ball, princess, would it be alright of me to ask you for your first dance?” as he asked this, there was a new, shy undertone in his voice, giving a new color to his previously overly confident self. 

Quietly, the girl placed her smaller hand on his “It would be”

The prince shared another smile with her - softer than the last excitable ones - and then walked off to the dance floor, holding her hand so he wouldn’t lose her through all the other couples that had come forth to dance. The people around them looked over as the princess passed by them, whispering rising among them. But neither she nor her companion payed attention to them, stopping in the middle of the area. 

“I must warn you, though, Prince Lockwood” She rose her shoulders slightly, shyly “I’m not a great dancer” 

He in turn chuckled, taking one step away from her, the designated distance for the dance “don’t worry, your Highness, I’m not that good myself” 

A piano struck down the first key graciously, the rest of the musicians quick to follow on the familiar, very well known song, the prince and all the other men on the dance floor bowing deeply before their partners, hands extended. 

Lucy, along with all the other ladies, curtsied as they stood back up, bringing up her hand and placing it against his, between them. Placed as it was, she was able to truly appreciate just how much bigger his hands were; her fingertips just barely reached the first third of his fingers, his palm was warm to the touch while hers was cold, and his fingers were bony and long while hers were short and plump. 

They marched in a circle around one another in alternating strides - long, short double step, long, short double step - a simple move that remained as they then took one another’s hands and turned to look at the couplet before them, marching a few steps towards them, then back, and repeat. Simple motions that even those who didn’t knew it could follow - yet Lucy managed to mess them up. 

She was off rhythm, always either going too fast or too slow, and whenever she tried to get back in track she’d go off course again. The words of her instructor swam in her head, _‘-lack of grace-’_ , _‘-stupid and clumsy-’_ , _‘-unfit for royalty-’_ , and the nervousness from before returned to her tenfold. What was she thinking? She knew she was a terrible dance partner, why would she even think of it? She should have just escaped the party as soon as she could! 

Avoiding the looks of all the others on the dance floor, Lucy turned to her own partner, determined on telling the prince of her change of heart, only for the words to die in her lips. Beside her was still prince Lockwood, his warm hand still held against hers, and dancing. Dancing in perfect harmony to _her_ rhythm. 

In a way, it was like seeing one of those swans that lived in the castle’s aviary, whenever it was mating season and they would all fly down to the lake, pairing up among each other and beginning to stretch and bow their necks, uneven at first, slowly coming into a rhythm and moving in unison, performing their love in front of every other bird. 

And like the birds that would always come to match each other’s pattern, whenever she tried to correct herself, he would change his own cadence to match her once more, and once more, and once more, taking him no more than a quick glance at her to do so. 

Lucy’s cheeks reddened brightly as he did this, his courageous eyes turning to her and his confident smile making her forget of the embarrassment that had burned inside her mere moments ago. Her mind left the fretful thoughts that invaded it and focused on the dancing, not thinking of the way the dance should have been done, but on whichever way it came to her and continued. 

No longer with her distress in mind, the song went by flying and the next one started, but neither of them even noticed. They just kept on dancing as that song continued and finished, then the next one and the next one, the other people in the dancefloor leaving and others coming in for each of the ballads and watching them waltz. 

It wasn’t until her feet hurt inside the slippers that Lucy remembered what she had been planning to do, and suddenly her plan didn’t seem as solid. Sure, she didn’t like parties anymore than she did when she arrived, but at least this one wasn’t as terrible now. But why was that? What had changed? The party was the same, and so were the guests...but what had changed? 

“You seem tired Princess” the prince, still holding her hand, spoke kindly, his cheeks tinted pink from exertion and a light sheen of sweat on his brow, but his smile still bright as it had been all night “perhaps you’d like to rest now?”

Lucy panted softly, grasping her companion’s hand tightly “I would like that…” 

He led her away from the dancefloor, taking two glasses from a tray a passing servant carried and offered her one. They drank the cold beverage silently, watching as the dancing continued before them, the people too entranced by the gala to notice they had left it.

The Princess remembered her previous plan between sips of the bitter-tasting drink, her eyes casting towards a clock that stood at the side of the room and squinting to read the time. It’d been almost two hours since the ball began, and she’d barely even noticed! How long had she been talking with the prince? How long had they danced? How hadn’t she noticed just how late it had become? She was more than safe to leave the ball now if she wanted to, no one would say anything and no one would notice, but...did she still want to leave?

Her coffee brown eyes turned back to find Prince Lockwood looking at her. They both turned away just as their eyes met, taking more sips from their glasses as their cheeks tinted pink. Lucy tried to think of something to say, of a way to strike up a conversation with him again, but suddenly it seemed much more difficult than it had been when they had just stumbled against each other. 

Then a small idea popped in her head. It was a small idea, but errant and misguided, terrible and shameful, and surely she couldn’t just do that, people would surely notice then - but then again it was getting late, the guests would start to get tired, so it wouldn’t be that suspicious, would it?

“Prince Lockwood?” she turned herself back to him bravely, steeling her nerves “would you like to go outside for some fresh air? I’m afraid I’ve partied enough for the night, but it would be nice to have some company to talk to”

“I would like that” He gave the glass back to another passing servant “my parents told me great deals of the aviary your castle keeps, is it true you have birds from far away, freezing countries?”

Lucy walked away, making her way to one of the many exists of the room to the one that would lead them closer to the gardens. 

“Why don’t I show you”

The music was still hearable from the halls, even as they walked away from the ballroom, the sounds of the people in there mixing and drowning into one big blur the farther they went from it. The large glass windows in the hall soon became a large pair of glass doors.

The princess looked back to make sure he was still with her, then pushed them open, stepping outside into the cold night wind. 

Prince Lockwood stopped beside her, the door closing behind, and stared out at the enormous garden that extended before them. The trees there were abundant with different types of fruits, big and small, multi-colored and plain-looking, with sweet and sugary scents wafting all around, impregnating the trunks of the trees with year-long lasting smell. There were flowery bushes around them, with flowers of all types, in buds and blossoms, their pollen mixing in with the already sweet air above them. The constant song of birds could be heard from afar.

“Wow…” his eyes were wide as he took in the marvelous sight. 

Having been born and raised in the castle, the display was nothing new for Lucy, specially with all the time she spent working in the gardens. The scene could be seen all year long, even in the cold months of winter when many of the flowers died, but the cool-weather ones were in full bloom, giving some variety to the beauty of the place. 

“I had only heard of the marvels this castle hosted…” his voice was above a whisper, filled with childlike wonder “but I hadn’t thought it would be anything close to _this_ …” 

She looked up at him, admiring the way the moonlight perfectly framed his face, making him glow lightly against the star splashed sky. This way she could see the smaller details of him, like how straight his nose was, or how his eyes seemed to shine even brighter out here than inside with the fire’s light. 

“Do you not have this in Thalassia?”

He shook his head “its a very desertic country, our wildlife is very different from this one”

“Well, if you’d like to see more, there are more plants down the path, and of course the aviary”

“Oh I would love to see that” He turned to her, grinning excitedly “would you show me to them?”

With a nod, Lucy walked through the stone path of the gardens, her gown swishing gently behind her against the grass, while the prince walked at her side, admiring the different plants and trees that they passed. The chirping and squawking got louder with each step, the enormous glass container appearing in the distance. 

Inside it there was a jungle of colors that shone glamorously and squawked raucously, flying wildly from nest to nest, some in the trees, others in the ground, and the rest by the lake, cawing at each other in both song and call. The species of birds the castle’s aviary hosted was beyond what many believed possible, beyond what even private collectors and dedicated scholars ever came to have. That was part of the reason the kingdom had so many of those.

Lucy had spend little time inside the aviary as a girl, back when she was very young and her father was still alive. Those were of the few moments he spared to spend with her, before he married her step mother, Marissa, back then no more than a wealthy duke’s widow, lonely and in search of a new loving husband. But she had barely any recollection of having been in it, it had been before she was even five when he died, and since then her step mother had been preparing her for the royal life. 

“Your castle is filled with wonders” She heard the breathless whisper beside her, turning to see the prince’s eyes shining even brighter than before, if that was possible, which she didn’t believe. Did he meant it, or was he only that easily impressed?

“Well, it is said it was built by witches” Her eyes returned to the aviary, focusing on some colorful family of ducks, who’s duckling’s swam clumsily after their parents “more than hundreds of years ago before this area was taken over by non-magical humans, and that they buried the secrets of their magic inside a labyrinth hidden in the walls”

“Really?”

The princess shrugged “No one’s ever found any labyrinth so, I guess its just a rumor” 

“Or it could mean that no one’s been determined enough to find it” 

“Many scholars have studied the architecture of the castle before, have searched the library, have turned entire rooms upside down, have even brought down walls to look for it, but not one of them has found anything”

“Perhaps the entrance is not in any of those places” 

The princess looked back at him then, catching his eyes in the process. He had turned to look at her, the marvel before them forgotten in the heat of the conversation.

“Have you ever been curious about that rumor, princess?” 

“...I was. Once” 

“Did you ever tried to look for the entrance of the labyrinth?” 

“I did” As a child with no siblings and no friends, Lucy had had to devise ways to have fun on her own whenever she wasn’t working, even if it was only small moments. She had in fact looked for the entrance, like almost everyone else who came to the castle “I thought for a while that I had found it”

“Really?” The prince’s eyes still shone with the moonlight, but there was something else in them now. A different kind of shine, much brighter than the moon’s, which made a sudden tremor ran down her back as she gazed up at them. It wasn’t like the one before that reflected the awe he felt for the phenomenons before him, or like the one that she’d seen back inside the ballroom. 

“...would you like me to show it to you?” 

In response, he offered her his arm, which she softly took, slipping her hand onto the crook of his elbow. She walked away from the boisterous aviary, leading the prince through the canopies of leaves and flowers. 

Away from the Queen’s personal patio and all the other sights, still lost in the middle of the castle’s immense gardens, was a terrace in the center of a clearing. Inside there was nothing more than a well, small and circular, with a bucket dangling from the masts to its sides. The stone of it was old and rough, negligence weighing down on what would have otherwise been an incredibly beautiful sight. 

They stopped before it, placing their hands carefully on the edge and peering inside - into nothing. 

“People say this well has been here since long before even the castle was” She spoke quietly “That it was used by those same witches for their rituals and that some of their magic still acts up in it”

“How?”

“Wishes. You throw a coin inside, the greater the value the better, and tell it your wish out loud. And if you hear it echoing inside, it’ll come true”

They stared into the black abyss of the well, the moon’s light not enough to shine down on it, before looking back up. 

“Have you ever tried it, princess?”

Lucy shook her head “There isn’t much I would wish for”

Not even the sound of water rushing inside seemed to come from the depths of the hole. 

A moment of silence went by as both prince and princess gazed into the other’s eyes. Cold wind rushed by, rustling the leaves and rattling the empty bucket over their heads, flowers falling from their branches around them. 

Prince Lockwood straightened up from the well’s edge, patting around his coat pockets until he brought out a single golden coin. Moonlight shone off of it in his hand, and he looked back at her for a moment, then smiled warmly. 

He flicked the coin, letting it drop inside the well. There wasn’t the faintest sound from inside.

“I wish” he began, leaning down slightly over the well’s edge again, the words immediately bouncing off inside it, repeating over and over, farther from the them “to get another chance to spend time with Princess Lucy”

She kept her eyes on the abyss before them “Is there nothing else you’d rather wish for?”

“They don’t really seem important enough to wish for”

“And that one is?”

“Well, its the really important things that need magical intervention, wouldn’t you agree?”

She looked up. His eyes were on her again, slowly tracing her features. That warm sheen was present in them once more, growing stronger when his eyes finally met hers. 

Heat spread across her cheeks.

“Yes, I guess they are, Prince Lockwood” 

“Please, just Lockwood will do”

A small smile bloomed on her lips “then just call me Lucy”


End file.
